


The Lion Trap

by LostMyWit



Series: Arijon short fics [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rhaegar Won, Child Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Justice, Possessive Arianne, Revenge, Technically Grandparenting, Tywin Lannister Getting His Feelings Hurt, Tywin Lannister's A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-05-26 17:38:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15005948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostMyWit/pseuds/LostMyWit
Summary: Based on a prompt by guest T.In which Tywin, angry that his family is out of favor with the crown, has Myrcella try and seduce Jon, the younger, unmarried prince. The (not) only problem is that Jon is in love with Arianne, who isn’t about to let him go.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know this was supposed to be kinda humorous, but it turns out I can’t write humorous in this setting. So this is what happened instead.

Tywin looked on with distaste as the crown prince draped the cloak over the Tyrell girl. The cloak that, by all rights, should’ve been being draped over Myrcella.

He pushed the resentment aside. He needed to plan, to act. The betrothal between Aegon and Margaery had been sudden and short, and had it been longer, Tywin was confident that he could’ve persuaded the king to see it differently. But, to his woe, Aegon and Margaery had been quite taken with each other, and it would not do to wait. Mace Tyrell had had no objections. The sooner his grandchild was on the throne, the better. Not that he would admit it out loud.

Looking away from the new royal pair, Tywin’s gaze fell upon the other prince. _The bastard_ , Tywin thought bitterly. Of course, there was no way to prove it one way or the other. The events that had transpired in the wake of Aerys’s removal had been chaotic. They had only the king’s word that he had married the Dayne girl before the boy’s birth, and that he had been conceived after the death of Elia Martell at the hands of the old king and his supporters.

But, in the end, that was a small matter. He was second in line for the throne, bastard or not, and he had the Targaryen name. That was enough. He was currently unpromised, but that could change soon. He would have to act fast.

  
He called Myrcella into his apartments that night. They were not poor accommodations by any means, but they were away from the royal family. The days in which he had resided in the Tower of the Hand were long past. He no longer had the favor he once had, but perhaps that could change.

Myrcella entered with a poise and grace that made Tywin proud. _She should have been royal by birth_ , he thought. _And she would have been, had the Martell’s not interfered_. She had Cersei’s golden curls and emerald eyes, but with a more gentle nature than her mother. Her name may have been Hightower, but she was a Lannister, through and through.

“You summoned me, grandfather?” She said, all courtesy.

“Yes. My dear, what do you know of the younger prince?” He asked.

She looked surprised for a moment. “Prince Jon? Very little, grandfather. Only that he was fostered in Dorne and that he is held in high esteem for his manners and skill at arms. I confess, I know little of his character.”

Tywin had expected as much. The prince had spent most of his youth in Dorne, away from anywhere Myrcella might have encountered him, and she had only been in King’s Landing for a few weeks, for the wedding.

“You must entice him,” Tywin told her. “Our family’s influence is not what it once was. It is your duty to reaffirm our position.”

Myrcella looked uncomfortable. “I am… to seduce him?”

Tywin nodded. “As soon as possible. Now that the wedding has passed, we can only say for so long without becoming annoyances.”

“Grandfather, how am I to go about this? Prince Jon’s honor is praised the realm over, and there are whispers of his affection for the Dornish princess. How am I to make him love me?”

“His love is not needed. As for his honor, use that against him. If he takes you into his bed in a moment weakness, it would only be proper if he were to wed you, as compensation.”

Myrcella still looked troubled. “Does the king know anything about your wish for a match? Perhaps, if you simply talked to him-”.

“The king is a proud fool,” Tywin interrupted her. “I practically raised that boy, taught him the art of governance as his mad father played with fire and left me to pick up after him. You would think that a marriage for you is the least he could offer, but he offers nothing. No, the king will not be privy to this. Not until it has already happened.”

She was still reluctant. “It is your duty as a Lannister,” Tywin reminded her. “Would you allow your family to suffer because you did not do what was required of you?”

She shook her head fervently. “Of course not grandfather. It will be done.”

Tywin nodded. There was no way the prince would resist her, even if the rumors of him and the Martell girl were true. It was moments like this that he almost smiled.

  
Myrcella looked on nervously as she watched the man her grandfather was asking her to seduce as he practiced in the yard. The knights were, expectedly, being cheered on by onlookers, but the younger prince was the clear favorite. Especially among the younger ladies. It was not hard to guess why. The prince was a fantasy come alive.

He fought with a grace and skill to best any knight in the realm, and his handsome face and soft dark hair made her heart flutter whenever he happened to look at her.

 _Fool_ , she chided herself. _He’s supposed to feel like that when he looks at you, that’s how seduction works_!

Her own personal feelings aside, he would likely prove a challenge for an entirely different reason. He seemed to pay no mind at all the affections of his admirers. He would never be rude to any of them, but he had also never given any so much as a glance.

She walked over to a gaggle of girls from Highgarden, the new queen’s cousins and handmaidens, and watched with them a moment, waiting for one of them too speak.

Finally, after besting a Reachman and taking a break, removing his helm to wipe the grime away with a damp cloth, one of the lower roses turned to the to others excitedly.

“The prince is even more beautiful than I imagined!” She gushed excitedly.

“Better than the Knight of Flowers,” one of them agreed, to a chorus of giggles from the rest.

“I can just imagine kissing those lips, running my hands through his dark hair,” another said dreamily.

Myrcella finally spoke up. “Has the prince ever taken a lover?” She asked.

Their moods instantly turned, and they became sullen.

“No,” one said gloomily. “They say that even as a boy, he never even played kissing games. He came to Highgarden once, as a squire, and we tried to kiss him, but we never could, not even Lady Margaery. He always acted so nervous and shy around girls.”

“He wasn’t shy around the princess,” one of them said darkly. “He followed the Dornish harlot around like a puppy.”

“Harlot?” Myrcella asked. “Did the princess…?”

The girl looked sheepish. “No, we never heard of anything, but… she’s Dornish, and all the Dornish are wanton and sinful.”

Myrcella gave a half hearted agreement and turned back to watch the prince in another bout, her mind racing with new thoughts. She would have to learn more about these rumors of the prince and princess.

  
She stood nervously outside the princess’s chambers, waiting to be admitted. She noticed that the visiting Martells had been quartered much closer to the royal apartments than the Lannisters had.

She was allowed in, and met the Dornish princess up close for the first time.

 _It's starting to make sense,_ she thought, as she took in the woman before her.

It was simple. The princess was stunning. Her body was all soft, sensual curves, her hair was dark and lush, and her face was beautiful, with her large dark eyes and full lips.

Myrcella realized immediately, that, in a battle of seduction, she was outclassed.

But, she couldn’t give up so soon. She curtsied politely. “Thank you for this audience, your highness,” she said.

Arianne smiled at her. “Of course, my lady. What do you require of me?”

Myrcella swallowed her nervousness. “I wished to inquire about the nature of your relationship with Prince Jon.”

The princess features changed in an instant, going from stunning to stormy. Arianne stepped towards her, and, though Myrcella was taller, she felt the other woman tower over her.

“Listen well, _Lannister_ ,” she spat the name like a curse. “The prince is _mine_ and _mine alone_. He has been mine since childhood, and I will not let you or anyone else try to take him from me. I say _try_ because he would never give you a glance, but should you persist, I will show you _exactly_ why the Targaryens were unable to take Dorne from us. I will make you disappear. And there will be _nothing left to find_.”

She turned around and left Myrcella trembling. When she turned back to Myrcella, all hints of fury had left her. “I thank you for visiting, my lady,” she said sweetly. “Have a pleasant evening.”

 

Myrcella’s hands had only just stopped shaking when she was let into her grandfather’s chambers. He looked up from a letter with his usual cold gaze as she entered. It did not make her shiver or feel as small as it once did. The Dornish princess had made her feel much more fear.

“Have you made any progress thus far, granddaughter?” He asked. He looked back down at the letter.

“No, grandfather,” she said. She braced herself.

Lord Tywin paused. He looked up her again, and set his quill down. “No?”

Myrcella struggled to find her voice. “The Queen’s handmaidens said he had never had a romantic companion, but that he was close to the Dornish Princess. When I asked her about her relationship with the prince, she threatened me not to pursue him.”

Lord Tywin did not speak. He merely watched her in thunderous silence. She corrected her earlier thought. Now, he was much more frightening than Arianne had been.

Without speaking, he rose from his chair and walked around the desk. He came to a stop in front of her, and Myrcella could only look at the floor. Still silent, he took her chin in hand, not forcibly, but firm, and made her look at him.

“The Martell whore threatened you?” He asked, deadly calm.

She nodded.

“And all you could do was scamper back to me with your tail between your legs, with the honor of our house on the line?”

She nodded.

And Tywin struck her.

The blow was hard, and it took her by surprise, but she caught herself before she fell. She clutched her stinging cheek. She closed her eyes until she was certain there would be no anger before she looked at her grandfather again.

“I apologize. I will try again.”

Tywin nodded curtly. “Yes, you will. You are a lioness of the Rock, a Lannister. If you must forgo subtlety, so be it, but you will make the prince yours. And if the Martell whore gets in your way again, you will make her pay for speaking to a Lannister in such a manner. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, grandfather.” She fought to keep the rage out of her voice, out of her face. It was something she had much practice with.

“Good. Away with you, then.”

Myrcella turned and went to her chambers. By the time she had shut her door, her anger had broken through and hot tears poured down her face. She would not let make her feel this way ever again, she vowed. She would make him pay.

  
The next morning, she went to see the king. He wasn’t there, off somewhere in the castle or the city, but the guard said she could wait. Not seeing any other options, she did.

She had not been waiting long when another visiter arrived in the King’s solar.

“Your Highness!” She exclaimed as she jumped up.

Prince Jon looked surprised to see her, but smiled kindly all the same. “Good day, my lady. What business do you have with the king?”

She wrung her hands together nervously. Could she tell him?

Prince Jon noticed her fear. “My lady, are you alright?”

He was so sincere that it hurt, and when she thought about what she was being forced to do she snapped and flung herself around him as her eyes stung with tears that she refused to shed. Jon was taken aback but did not push her away, and for a moment she felt at peace in his presence. Then she heard the door open again.

“ _You_!”

She turned and saw Arianne Martell in the doorway, looking even more furious than she had the night before.

“I warned you what would happen if you coveted him further, and yet here you are!” She exclaimed. “Get off of him right now, or -”,

“I sorry, I didn't want too!” Myrcella backed away from Jon and fell back into her seat, holding her head in her hands. She was unable to hold back the tears and she hated herself for being so weak.

Arianne stopped cold, her anger replaced by confusion, and even guilt. “What? Then what are you…?”

Myrcella sniffled. “My grandfather,” she told them. “He told me to seduce the prince so that our family could get back in good favor, and when I went to him last night and told him what you said he _hit_ me, and I was going to tell the king, but he wasn’t here, and then Jon came in, and…”

She felt a pair of arms wrap around her, and she realized Arianne was giving her a hug. “I’m sorry,” she told her softly, remorse in her voice. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea. People have tried to take Jon from me before, and I love him so much, and I feared him being forced away from me by his father. I’m so sorry.”

Myrcella returned Arianne’s embrace and cried. When her tears had all run, she stood again. Arianne looked more apologetic and regretful than she had ever seen anyone look in her life, and Jon watched on with sympathy.

Arianne bowed her head. “I’m ashamed of what I said to you. Please, let me help you.”

“How?” Myrcella asked. “He’s my grandfather, and if I can’t get the prince to lay with me, he’ll… I don’t even know what he’ll do but I can’t disobey him.”

Arianne exchanged a look with Jon. When she turned back to her she asked, “Would you like to come to Dorne with us?”

Myrcella was stunned. “Dorne? What for?”

“As a lady in waiting. Or perhaps you could stay in Kings Landing, with the queen. We’ll speak to the king on your behalf, and he’ll make the offer. Lord Tywin won’t be able to refuse.”

Myrcella nodded. “Thank you. I want to be away from him.”

“Has he hurt you before?” Arianne asked.

Myrcella nodded again. “A few times. When I make mistakes.”

Arianne took her hands gently. “Would like to make him pay?”

Myrcella looked up. Arianne’s eyes were still kind and apologetic, but there was fire in them, a promise of retribution. Myrcella thought of all the times she had sworn to herself she would take her vengeance against her grandfather.

“Yes.”


	2. Chapter 2

The crowd milled about and droned as they waited for the king to enter. The Kingsguard and the Gold Cloaks of the City Watch stood vigil, hands on swords and spears. Tywin, Myrcella by his side, stood separate from the rabble, behind a semi-circle of guards.

A hush fell over the room as king and council emerged, and made their way to the Iron Throne. Tywin felt a smug satisfaction as he looked at Rhaegar, and he saw the gray among the silver-blond. It was near impossible to detect, but Tywin had seen the same happen to the last king. He wondered passingly how Rhaegar’s madness would manifest.

The king took his seat on the throne, and the herald came forward.

“His majesty, King Rhaegar, first of his name, king of the Andals and the First Men and the Rhoynar, will now take the first petition, put forth by Lord Tywin Lannister, Warden of the West, Shield of Lannisport.

The king beckoned them forward. Tywin guided Myrcella up to the throne.

“Your majesty,” he began, with a bow, “I fear I must inform you of inform you a recent even that has occurred between my granddaughter and your younger son.”

Rhaegar inclined his head. “Indeed? Well, my lord, what have you to say?”

Out of the corner of his eyes, Tywin saw Myrcella’s face reddening in shame as she looked at the ground. This would humiliating, he knew, but the marriage would come all the same. This temporary embarrassment would be necessary.

“Your majesty, last night, your son laid with my granddaughter.”

The rabble went from a murmur to jeering in an instant. The king raised a hand for silence, but there would be none. Only after the city watch had beaten the butts of their spears against the floor did they quiet.

The king regarded Tywin for a long time. “Impossible, my lord,” he finally said. “You must be mistaken.”

Tywin paused. It was a more measured reaction than he’d expected. In fact, the king seemed to be fighting a smile. Odd.

“Your majesty,” he began once more, “I have it from the mouth of my granddaughter herself, who said she was with Prince Jon only last night,” he urged Myrecalla forward. “Would you call her false?”

Rhaegar merely shrugged. “I must, or else call my own eyes false,” said the king. “For last night, I saw my son with the Princess Arianne, from dusk to dawn.”

Tywin felt a surge of anger. He grasped Myrcella harshly by the wrist and made her go closer to the king. “Tell his majesty, granddaughter, what occurred last night,” He ordered.

Myrcella regained her poise and took a step towards the throne, curtsying as she did.

“Your majesty,” she began soft, but firm, “I must give you the truth.” She looked back at Tywin with hate in her eyes. “My grandfather, Lord Tywin Lannister, ordered me to seduce your son. I did not wish to take part in such evil scheming, so I lied to him, and said that I had. My grandfather is also making plans to kill the crown prince so that he can maneuver even closer to the throne.”

Tywin was frozen where he stood. He could only look at Rhaegar, and the small, infernal smile forming on the king’s face. _He knew_ , he realized. _Myrcella went to him, and they have planned this charade to do me in,_  he realized, too late.

He wanted to throttle the girl, but two of the kingsguard had already gotten to her. Nothing could be done, he realized. He was trapped.

“Lord Lannister,” the king said, “If this is true, then it is treason against the crown. Have you any evidence in your defense?”

Tywin could not speak, could only open his mouth dumbly like a fish. The rage and shame had clouded his mind. Rhaegar nodded smugly.

“If you can say nothing in defense, we must consider you guilty. I hereby by strip you of all titles and holding, and bestow them upon your son, Tyrion Lannister. You will be sent to the Wall, to take the black.”

The noise in the hall was rising, but all Tywin could hear was the blood pounding in his ears. _Surely the king was not serious?_

“The Imp is a lord!” Some voice cried from behind him. Then more repeated it, and then they began to laugh. Then everyone in the room was howling with laughter, and why shouldn't they? It was not every day the proudest lord in the land was cast down and replaced by his dwarf son.

And the _laughter_. It cut into him, surrounded him. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t even protest or pull away when the guards took him away.

From the foot of the throne, Myrcella watched on, chin high and eyes shining.

“A Lannister always pays her debts.”

  
Myrcella let out an easy sigh, breathing in the warm air that tasted of oranges. The Water Gardens were a paradise.

“My lady?”

She turned to see Princess Arianne and Prince Jon, _Prince Consort,_ she reminded herself, approaching arm in arm.

Myrcella bowed. “Your highnesses,”

Arianne smiled. “Well?” She asked. “Are you finding Dorne to your liking?”

She nodded eagerly. “Very much, Princess. I feel more relaxed than I have in years.”

“Wonderful,” Arianne untangled her arm from Jon and took Myrcella by the hand. “Come,” She said, “there is someone I wish for you to meet,”

Myrcella went along as Arianne led her to another room of pools. Instead of children, Arianne’s cousins and friends bathed and frolicked. Arianne pointed out a young man, water dripping from his dark hair and his lean, sun touched body. Myrcella felt her heart speeding up as she watched him. He noticed her gaze, and sent her lazy smile. Myrcella worried she would faint.

“My, brother, Trystane,” Arianne said, a playful smirk on her lips. “I believe you will get along very well.”

Myrcella nodded mutely. She very much hoped they would get along well.

_I think I will be staying a long while in Dorne._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience, this took way to long. Sorry that the AriJon was more background, but hopefully the next to stuff to come out will make up for it. Please feel free to leave feedback, and thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> The rest of this will come out when I figure out how to actually carry out the revenge. Feedback apreciated as always, and thanks for reading!


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